Anth 54 10.2.05

Thursday 10/2/05. @ Birds Gallery @ 8.15 am & ftr a koffee → Gippsl& 2 try out th nfl8bl dnghy Vaidas bort a kupl of dayz go. I m (6 pm) ritin th ntry @ th Lonely Bay Walk kar park on th Toorloo Arm of Lake Tyers (c Vic Roads Country Directory map 85 c x 6.7). Vaidas haz gon ↓ path O 200 yrdz → shor 2 throw in a line. A few weeks go whn me & H wer here th taylor wer jumpn. Th nfl8bl iz stil ntakt in th █ it kame in. In nglsh it iz kalld “FISH HUNTER 6 person boat HF 36011”. In spansh it sez “FISH HUNTER 6 person boat H360 EMBARCACION PARA 5 PERSONAS”. In germn it sez “FISH HUNTER HF 360 Angelboot für 3 Erwaschsene, 1 Kind”. In th foto-pik on th frunt it showz 2 ppl in it whch looks O rght. It kost $350 rduced ← $500. 1st stop on th way woz @ th • on th Tambo whr w had spnt a few nghts a few kz out of Metung & I had cn 2 lrge brim. W had a beer vrlookn th watr in th pub @ Metung. Oh yes! I 4got : our 1st stop woz @ EAST COAST SMOKED EELS in Str@4d whr w bort ½ neel 4 $6.00 It had just bn smokd & if w had kum 20 minz rlier w kood hav got it b4 it had bn vkume pakt in plstk. Im goin ↓ 2 c how th fshn iz …. Hez got 4 linez in & had 1 dfnit bite. A fsh jumpt & splsht neer x , & gain & gain. Hez lost nuthr b8 & haz kum & ↓ a glas eech ← botl of TAYLORS Cabernet Sauvignon 14.5% alc/vol (HE HAZ JUST CGHT A FSH ITZ A BLAK BRIM ITZ LEEGL SIZE EVN BGSH WEL B FRYIN FSH 4 T) whch Iv brort ↓ → th pknk tabl x th watr. W bort it in Lakes Entrance ftr lunch (filt of flake (gumy shark) & 2 krumbd prawnz 4 $8.50) whn V shopt up @ th sprmrkt. It kost $13 & it haz 1 a GOLD MEDL @ th Royal Queensl& Wine Show in klas 29 in 2004. Ndr a pik of 3 chorsez Bill Taylor Snr sez : “Think of nothing else but the source when crafting a wine, for it is in the vineyard that great wines are made.” & on th bak it sez “My grandfather, Bill Taylor, inspired by the great wines of the world, establi-shed our estate in the Clare Valley, South Australia. ¶ Fossilized sea-horses unearthed on the estate confirmed the area was once the bed of an inland sea – rich and fertile. Today, the sea-horses are proudly represented as our cres-t.¶ Through three decades of winemaking, as each generation passes its craft to the next, our commitment to quality does not falter. For our family, the wine really is everything.¶ A generous cabernet (HEZ GOT NUTHR GOOD SIZE 1 BLAK BRIM GAIN) with rich, fruit flavours of blackcurrant and cassis along with subtle chocolate and mint. French oak maturation adds a toasty complexity.” Its OK 2. 7.55. Kloudy. Breez haz dropt. Friday 11/-2/05. Sercht 4 wood in th dark, got a fire goin & kookt th fsh skwrd on twgz last nght. Since throwin out th 2 huge karp 2 die on th shor neer Wanganella on our last fshn trip Iv dvlpt a reaktion 2 fshn. I feel gilty @ havn kild beautfl nimlz 1tnly & m bein nfluenced x buddhst teechnz. Th@ Joe (28/2. haz quit workn az a bouncer ftr sum 1 urin8d ↓ hiz biO helmt) & DIaCnAdSrTeRaO r buddhsts iz lso a fak-tr (V sez hez redy →. Well look 4 a • 2 nfl8 & try out th dnghy) …. Wv found it. U koodnt b mor on th watrz edge. Im ssumin th mouth of th lake iz shut & thr iz no tide thrwize w kood b in trubl 2nght. All 4 rodz r in use. Im barakn 4 th fsh. I dont mind eetn thm if it woz a kase of reel need ~ @ leest Id b sho-win thm th kind of rspkt whch kumz from dpndnce. But 2 k@ch thm needlssly (2 BITES ON DFFRNT RODZ SMULTANEOUSLY & HEZ PULLD OUT 2 FL@HED) iz 2 dstnce yrslf from thm. Th bsessv way anglrz pull out huge kwanteez uzin xpnsv boats & hgh tek geer iz pthetk (19/2/05 – so the sin is in the quantity and the means, not in the act itself? If you torture and then eat only one, not torture and discard 200, does that make it OK? Helh&z (21/2. its th dstnktion Im makin btween fsh & ppl (25/2. O ºz of dstncin))). The fl@hed r th 1st V haz cght & ystrdeez blak brim wer hiz 1st brim. Sum scientsts rekn fsh dont feel pain. They kood rgue th@ if fsh dont hav th • in th brain (V haz nrold th nfl8bl – THR R NO ORZ!) whch makes ppl feel no pain whn they r neethstized it meenz fsh kant feel pain az w no it. But th neethstst noze w dont feel pain nly koz w rnt rithin & skreemn (24/2. & he noze th@ whn w wake up wel say w felt no pain) whraz th fsh wth a hook thrgh itz mouth iz flapn & jerkn. I dont want 2 b th korz of it. My plogeez 2 th karp of Wanganella – I had llowd myslf 2 b dsnstized x shalow tork O thm bein 4eignrz & nvirnmntl pests etc. Th nvirnmnt O Wanganella haz bn ruind x th pastrl ndustry. Th rivrz & kreeks hav bn turnd in2 drainz. Th rvr red gumz r dyin. Th last pair of brolgaz th@ vzt will soon b gon. Th huge karp in thr sekrt bree-dn shalows in th swamp r th most beautful thingz left. (TH NFL8BL IZ BAK IN ITZ █). Ncidntly V haz bn fshn wth blueb8 hed bort but now hez netd sum shrmps. 2nght w will b eetn fl@hed. My kntrbution iz th lrge mshrm I found near Burnt Bridge whn w wer chekn out th kcess → Toorloo Arm (c Vic Road-s Country 1

Directory map 85 B4 x 6.5). Im not proud of th ptitude Iv had in th past 4 fshn, huntn etc). V iz fraid th mshrm mght b poiznoos so Ill eet my ½ 2nght & he kan hav hiz 2mrrow (24/2. but w 8 our ½ z @ th same time wth 2 min noodlz). Wel lso hav th botl of wine he bort @ th Nowa Nowa hotl. Nlike th 1 last nght it haz a kork but its a plastk 1. Fl@hed no 3 woz cght on a shrmp & wth th smokd eel w-ed 4gotn O w hav nuff 4 t. Heard on th mday newz nrth krea dklared tslf a NUKULAR powr (22/2. nrt-kl in last sundeez ppr sez iran & china may hav bort old soviet nukulr tipt kruze mssilez from UKRAI-NA). Itz 3.20. Oyez, w r on th eestrn side of th Nowa Nowa Arm of Lake Tyers in th last • u kan kcess from th Tyers House Track b4 u get → Tyers House ‫ ٱ‬tslf. … Wv krakt th botl erly. S@rday 12/2/05 Last nght w s@ → dark sOd x th sound of splshn tailor (Pomatomus saltator (Linnaeus, 1766)) az they lept ↑ air all O us. They seemd much kloser 2 th shor than rlier, praps @rktd x th lght from our fire. W kookt th 4 fl@hed (Platycephalidae) V had cght skwerd on th ndz of stiks (th fire iz goin gain this mornn & w hav nuthr fl@hed & a piece of blak brim (Acanthopagrus butcheri (Munro 1949)) (he iz uzin th rest of th brim 4 b8) (CGHT NUTHR FL@HED) ovr th fire) ovr th fire. W 8 nly 2 of th frshly kookt 1z bkoz w lso had th smokd eel whch woz vry rich. Th rmainn 2 w left ovr th koalz vrnght 2 dry out & get smokd. W 8 thm 4 brekfst & they wer nicer than th frshly kookt 1z. W need 2 mprov our mth-d nxt time & bring a smokn dish. I slept well 2 th sound of th splshn fsh wthout my sual kogit8nz & ntr-uptd nly 1ce x a rkurnt dreem (nghtmare) I hav of sum1 kreepn → th haus & I yeld “get out of here” az I lwayz do but wthout kikn th side of th van & wthout wakin up V in hiz kar nxt 2 mine & went 2 sleep gain. This mornn I woz wokn x th sound of a motr blongn 2 a 4x4 of a fshrmn hooz thrown a line in O 100 yrdz from us. No doubt he sed FUCK whn he sor w had kcuppied th nd of th spit. Itz 9.18 & I dont know what wel do wth th 3 fsh (& a bit of roe) ovr th fire az Iv had nuf fsh & V bviously duznt ntnd takin ny ← 2 Brigita. He woz up b4 me gain & got th brim whn he pulld in th linez left vrnght. It had got tslf hookt thrgh th eye. Th fshrmn neer x just left. He had bn karstn out lrge b8 wth long c-rods but I nvr sor him k@ch nufn …. (5.30) I m @ Pettmans beech O 4½ ks eest of last nghts • (@ th nd of what I now no 2 b th TRIDENT ARM trak). Iv bn here b4 & ritn journl ntreez th@ Iv ‘pblshd’. This mornn I woz glad V helpt me finsh off th last 3 fsh w kookt koz thrwize I wood hav felt knscience bound 2 eet thm x mslf. Then I •d V doin an EMU PARADE pikn up th rubbsh left O x prvious vzitrz. Mostly he pikt up frayd tshuez (uzed as FANNY wperz?), dskardd fshn line & plstk (nkludin a mpty shelite kont) bagz whch w burnt in the fire b4 filn in th fireO. Then w nvstg8d sum uthr kcessz → Nowa Nowa rm of th lake b4 drivin ← Lakes Entrance 4 a few drinks @ th Kalimna pub b4 partn kumpny az he haz 2 man hiz stall @ Southbank 2mrrow. W wer torkn O monmnts in lthol& 2 partznz (soviet 1z vs th krauts) etc & I woz 1drn whthr thr wer mor monmnts 2 LENIN in thoz dayz than thr r 2 nti~soviet partznz (VšAaIrTūKnUaSs tellz me 1 haz bn rektd 4 hiz grⅆ hiz dad hoo iz a well known film drktr haz just made a film O partznz (22/2. a few dayz ftr I sent my 7 ltho pieces → ANDaZuIšUrLaYTĖ hoo livz in PARTIZANU g. in KAUNAS bkoz I kame † her +rss in a list of prtcipnts in a MAIL ART show dun x CoaZdZrOiLaInNaI I woz torkn 2 Vaidas hoo sed hed gon 2 rt skool wth her & had workt on th 9th 4T monmnt wth her brthr (25/2. ko~ncidnce?)) & wants Šarūnas (2/3. haz ritn a book llustr8d x Vaidas whch iz lmost redy 4 pblk8n (lookn 4 sum fnancial bakn from kumpneez in lthol&) & I rkmmnd it sighncn evn tho itz in ltho ~ Iv drunk wth both of em & theyr legit) 2 flog sum DVDz of it in ozziel& & mayb 2 th ltho kommnty) now & V sed thr wer fewr but they wer very big & mainly in th siteez. In th litl townz they nly got 2 name streets ftr him. Mmorialz 2 nti~soviet ltho partznz r litlr but mor numroos. LENIN woz big like GOD. Whn V woz on 1 of hiz postnz in th soviet rmy hiz job woz 2 look ftr th LENIN mmorial out frunt of their base. 1 day ftr he got bak from watrn & weedn th flowr bed hiz kommndn ffcer rang him 2 say thr woz A PROBLEM WITH LENIN & th@ V woz 2 go & fix it up. So he went ← mnmnt & watrd & weedd th flowr bedz gain though he koodnt find no prblm wth LENIN & went bak 2 hiz 2nd floor barrk room but th kommndn ffcer rang gain hollern th@ LENIN STILL HAD A PROLBM. So V lookt out th wndow & sor 4 th 1st time th@ BIRDZ HAD SH@ ON LENINZ HED & BIRD SHIT had dribld ↓ LENINZ sakrd face. So he went bak 2 th mnmnt of LENIN wth a ladr & got up & washt off th BIRD SHIT. Th • of th story xplaind V woz th@ th kmmndn ffcer woz not abl 2 bring himslf 2 say birdz had krapt on LENIN bkoz it wood hav bn dsrspktfl 2 say it like so O GOD himslf & nsted he had sed LENIN HAS A PRLBM & left it 2 V 2 work out what he had ment. Nyway th@s th kind of guy Iv bn spndn time wth th 2

last kupl of dayz (28/2. cght up wth him gain ystrdy @ th stall. KOTScAoBnASIS (c ‘30/11/04 – 9/12/04’ p2 & 4) woz neer~x prmotin hiz book (‘Unveiling The War Against Terror’). 2 my bzerv8n th@ w rprzntd ppsit sidez of th COIN he rplied mine had rustd. He woz proudly dsplayn th thank u note ← Donald Rumsfeld (winr of prize 4 best suprtn role of The Golden Raspberry Worst Actor Award) 4 th book Con had sent him whch Don (hoo haz a rkord of doptn Conz dvice kkordn 2 Con) sez he loo-ks 4wrd 2 reedn. I told Vaidas O th rtkl I had red in th HeraldSun a week erlier O a dramtk evnt in Chapel st th prvious evnn (s@rdy 19th). It nvolvd a SWAT (?) teem of 4 men, rmd 2 th teeth, jumpn out of a van & takln 2 womn 1 of hoom woz thrown ↓ gO midz much skreemn & yeln. Then th rdnry kops rrived & took ovr, & lso n mbulance. Th SWAT teem wer then pikt up x sevrl 4x4 vhklz whch had lso rrived on th cn. This woz rportd 2 hav kkurd O 5pm & wtnst x 00s. So u kan magine how sprized I woz whn xpktn it 2 b th hedline story in th TV newz sundee evnn thr woz no mntion of it @ all. Nxt day (mundee) I bght (on th sundee me & H had red th kopy in th kafé) th prvious dayz HeraldSun from th Errol st nwzgency but th story had bn pulld from th@ dtion. IT WOZ N EEREE & SUREEL FEELN & l8r in th day I chekt wth H if sh had red it whch sh had. Since then I hav not herd a whspr O it but meny ppl must hav red it (nless very few kopeez of th dtion wer printd). V sed in soviet (28/2. a jnior ffcer in hiz unit in rus hoo had klaimd th CHERNOBYL dzastr woz very serious whn th soviet govt woz stil in partial dnial woz publkly bawld out & humli8d on th prade gO in frunt of very1 x their kmndn ffcer til he woz rduced 2 a JELLY) times in lthol& thingz like th@ hapnd all the time.) & itz bn good. Ftr w partd kumpny I dun sum shopn & ← in this drektshn, turnd off → th krg8d Tyers House rd, & then takn th 4k 2 Pettmans beech whr az I sed Iv bn b4 & hav spent th last kupl of hourz drnkn beer (& koffee) & reedn th ppr I bort in Lakes Entrance & eetn a lot. Itz 6.30 & Im goin 4 a krap (thr iz a toilt) & 2 hav a look @ th beech gain. Im th nly 1 here. Bon apetit. (kan heer a whipbird (Psophodes olivaceus) in the dune). Sundy 13/2/05. Last nght woz nuthr good 1. Dremt O domstk trvia (itz 9.50 am & a famly hav rrived) & travln. Th sound of th o~shion woz soothn. Th nly thing betr wood hav bn a deep dreemlss sleep whr u wake up ftr 12 hourz feeln az if u kood walk 100 kz whch iz quite nlike my sual 4m whr I m thinkn or dreemn Im thinkn thingz like 4 xmpl th@ verythn, vry word, lready kntainz th thingz nxt 2 it (its kntxt) or @ least its pposit. U knot knceiv of how u kood 4m th notion of a kolor wthout th kolorz O it. No kolor kan xist x tslf wthout @ leest th mmry of uthr kolorz. Blak lredy kntainz white. A kreeture born 2 prptual nght hoo haz nevr cn a sunrize haz no kncept of day ~ but neethr duz he hav 1 of nght. U knot c wthout havn 1ce bn blind. U knot say sumptn ‘iz’ wthout lso sayn it ‘iz not’. If u say AB iz (or =s or iz = 2 or iz th same az or iz 2 b treetd az) BA u r lso sayn they r dffrnt (same if u say (A+B)‫ٱ‬d = A ‫ٱ‬d +2AB + B ‫ٱ‬d). Its why u wood nevr say A = A. W say “This iz That” bkoz a greemnt needz 2 b 4ged O how w must akt in th face of dffrnce (or FLUX). W hav no need 2 say “This iz This”. In th kase of AB iz BA th dffrnce iz in th rrangemnts whch w do not llow 2 nfluence th nd rzult of th kompt8n w per4m. In th kase of “This iz That” it may b w point in dffrnt drektions, or r lookn @ dffrnt prspktivz of it . U mght say 2 your nghbr this tree iz az hgh az th@ 1 bkoz bein blind he duznt no or if he iznt bkoz u hav mesured thm. Th dffrnce iz hiz blindnss or hiz lack of geomtry 2 do th kalkl8n. Whn w say sumptn ‘iz’ w pleed 4 greemnt (synkrniz8n) in th face of dffrnce in ordr 2 ovrkum it.. Itz our way of mastern KAOS. All wordz r nstrktionz 4 ktionz (sum very small, trvial & humli8n 1z in th modrn knomeez) 2 b per4md. W 4gt th rliest greemnts bkoz they bkum bskured x l8r 1z & w think of thm az morl lorz or n@rl 1z & if they r stil mor ncient (4/3. ie dun @ th levl of molkulez) w say they r fakts or bjeckts (NB. This dskshion iz rdktionst bkoz lnguage (25/2. in a letr I got 2day F+L klaim DERRIDA (1930-2004) “contends that to name a thing is to do violence to the thing named”. Iz th@ in ‘Grammatology’? How violnt duz th@ make us! In th pssage F+L r rfrn 2 (‘Danyo Reserve’ p3) I m mplyin a dstnktion whch I 1nt 2 rtain btween mesurin & namin (26/2. in nswr 2 your ? “are there things which are not measurable?” it dpndz on th meenn u hav givn 2 ‘thingz’. If x ‘thingz’ u meen nly what iz tangibl then th ? bkumz “r thr mesurabl thingz wh-ch r not mesurabl?” 2 whch th nswr iz ~ NO. But if x ‘thingz’ u meen a wider domain (28/2. but what kood u or ny1 b meenn x it?) th nswr iz ~ YES. ie your ? haz a grm@kl prolbm whch kant (or knot) b rzolvd (or rzovld). A betr way 2 hghlght th prolbm iz 2 say : whr th meenn of a word (name, term, lab-el) iz a m@r 4 dsput8n (eg : ‘poetree’, ‘happynss’, ‘lonelinss’ (Dr 3

Flood in 2dayz Age (p4) haz mpov-rsht th wordz meenn & rzolvd dsput8n x rstriktn it 2 meen ‘alone’), ‘luv’, ‘kindnss’, ‘muzik’, ‘god’, ‘just-ice’, ‘phlosphy’, ‘ science’, ‘reezn’, ‘histry’, etc etc) w kant mesure 4 az long az w kant find knsensuz. But thr r lso wordz hooz meennz w kan gree on but 4 whch w kant find a mesure (ie make kompar-snz) ~ w kant mesure ‘mesure’.).) tslf iz). Let me tell u, deer reedrz (2, 3? 10 @ th most) th greemnts w hav 4ged r breakn down. I PROPHESY ( 25/2. prdikt?) KAOS. Its my job : Im th uthr side of th koin. Th rvr bed iz O 2 change kors. MbCrLiUaRnE sez sum will srvive. I sppoze he iz rght but me-entime verythn iz fadin & I sspkt th srvivorz r not mung me frenz & it may not b worth srvivin. Nyway, (famly (4 kdz) r bak from th beech & r havn lunch) th@s sum of what I woznt thinkn O last nght. Im → th beech …. It woz put 2 me 6 or so weeks go x my unkl (KAaBlAgIiLsA) th@ kountn & numbr systmz (& geomtreez) wer ndoubtdly a m@r of knvntion (greemnt) but th@ it woz nuthr ? why sum r useful & uthrz dont work. I sgest its bkoz sum systmz kntrdikt rlier found8nl greemnts while uthrz dont. But in a body of greemnts whch iz 4vr xp&n & bkumn mor komplx I c no reezn why drektionz 4 ktionz runin kountr 2 rlier drektionz mght not find their use in th fture. Not nlike th organz & sensz of th body whch may per4m dffrnt & ←→ jobz but th O iz kohernt in a way th@ spr8ly they koodnt no. Thez r th thorts I woz wastin me time wth on th walk whr I → eest (sumtimez †n th dune & → sthrn side of Ewings Marsh whr I sor lots of vdence of goanna drag marks & then I sor a vry lrge goanna) 4 2½ hourz & then ← beech (whr I found a pilow) in 1½. Th 30+ ks of koast → Marlo iz 1 of th longst strtchz of prstine beech in Vic bkoz th marsh prvnts road kcess from th Princess High-way. Mght → a bit th uthr way l8r. But 1st a kuppa koffee …. 7.10. Brusht me teeth. Shaved. Az I woz pplyin th soapy lathr → face I rmmbrd th@ th shavin brush I m uzin had blongd 2 my fthr. Monday 14/2/05. Im @ Bemm River (Vic Roads map 86 H x 5.1) in th very @rktv litl pknk ‫ ٱ‬x th watr † th road ← th pub. Th van iz parkt in good shade ndr lrge gumz neer~x, thr iz a groop of a duzn plkanz on a p@ch of s&y bank 100 yardz way, I m ritin (Iv bn here many times & ritn journl ntreez but I kant rmm-br if any hav found thr way in2 th pieces I put out) @ a tabl Iv ritn on b4, a guy hooz havn lunch wth hiz wife @ th nxt tabl →d bak ← hiz 4x4 (pulln a karavn) & sed “your writin your life story then” & I sed “no m8 Ill write O u” & he rplied “Ill b famous then”, a kupl drest in blak pulld up on mtorbikes, Im drinkn a stubee of Tooheys OLD Black Ale & m O 2 get nuthr, its balmy wth a gentl breez. This mornn I sed good~x 2 th 2 germn kidz I had stood yakn 2 x th fire l8 in2 th nght ystrdee. 1 of thm iz viztn 4 2½ we-eks, th uthr haz bn workn here ovr a yeer 4 Siemens. They both had studeed ntrn@nl buzynss dmins-tr8n @ th same uni. Dont think they wer 2 keen on turks of hoom thr r 7 mllion (out of 80) in germny. They wntd 2 slide ↓ s& dunes on spcial bordz they had 4 th prpz so I told thm O th big 1 @ Thurra Ri-vr whch iz whr they dcided →. I drank a prtty good drop of red wine wth em. @ Orbost chekt th mobile mssge bank & thr woz 1 ← H. Sh sez Benz got hiz nmploymnt bnftz & iz hlpn her wth work in th bak yard (24/2. workn thr now). Dan got bak ← NZ on thurzdee but left 4 Sydney on fridee 4 a job. He re-ely njoyd kiwil& & haz sum munee in hiz pokt 4 a chnge. Hez got planz but sh nevr sed what. I kan guess : Milan, New York, Tokyo, Paris etc etc. Iv herd it all b4. I sed (2 her mssge bank) I mght b bak this fridy nsted of nxt az th piece I want 2 put out iz falln in2 shape. Th main task iz 2 vizt a kupl of th •s in East Gippsl& (25/2. SA&NrIeGwAz klas @ Melb Uni r rdzignn th bordwalk @ Wingan Inlet & 2-day he askt me & MM 2 help (2/3. w 8 in Lygon st 2day & rranged 4 me & MM 2 b @ Melb Uni on th 15th)) whr th xploits of MM (Mallacoota Man (24/2. lso haz bn known az Th Hermit & az th Wild Man of East Gippsl&) of ‘IN TRANSIT’ (22/2. th GURU OF GONZO (Hunter S. Thompson (24/2. Kmitd suici-de last sundee (26/2. the day ftr September 11 he wrote : “The towers are gone now, reduced to bloody rubble, along with all hopes for Peace in Our Time, in the United States or any other country. Make no mistake ab-out it. We are At War now ~ with somebody ~ and we will stay At War with that mysterious Enemy for the rest of our lives.” & whn he woz loozin njoymnt in ritin : “I suspect writing is a bit like fucking, which is only fun for amateurs. Old whores don’t do much giggling.”))) sez (in 2dayz ‘Age’ p11) : “Gonzo journalism is a style of reporting based on William Faulkner’s idea that the best fiction is far more true than any kind of journalism ~ and the best journalists have al-ways known this.” (c lso ‘Danyo Reserve’ p3)) take place so az 2 hav n xuse 2 nklude an nsert (“Meanwh-ile, right in the midst of 4

these literary considerations our stranger arrives at his campsite. As he catch-es sight of his water container and the plastic box he uses for storage and as a seat in the car headli-ghts he feels the warm glow of homecoming. The trip into Mallacoota had been a discordant note. His one man tent is out of sight in the undergrowth among several massive tree trunks. It is only when he turns the engine off and gets out of the van that it becomes apparent that he is not far from the coast for the muted roar of the sea is clearly audible. The tree trunks glow in the moonlight like the columns of a temple. There is a stillness in the night air and a special sense of security and freedom which co-mes from the certainty that he is alone. He pulls out his jacket from the box as it is turning chilly and sets about making a fire. Later he sits staring into the fire a stubby of stout in his hand, untroubled by thought. After sitting like this for the best part of an hour he gets up, picks up the spade lying behind the box, and goes to a spot among some bushes where he places his torch on a log in such a way that it’s light allows him to see what he is doing . He digs with ease as the ground had already been turned over only the previous week. It does not take him long to reach the body which is only a foot below the surface. The body is that of his father. It has a bullet hole through the head. The discerning reader will by now smell a rat. Rightly so. In fact the stranger does not pick up a spade behind the box. He walks to the bushes for a leak, and comes back for another stubby. Later on, lying on his lilo in the tent, he hears an owl hoot : ¶ bird of night // take me / to your moonlit dreams / take me / in your glowing eye / to where the pale moon / guard my sleep ¶ As the night grows colder he is still, like shadow and light. He dreams that he is lying dead by the side of the highway between Broken Hill and Cobar. ¶ inside his rib cage / two crows dance // one that struts and strops its beak / says / I dance like this / to honour death // the other / shuffles its wings and nods its head // I dance for you / my empty friend / to introduce you to the night ………………I am suffering from acute indecision caused by terminal confusion. Will even the most general laws of human behaviour be made known to me? Is true self-awareness achievable? Can pigs be taught to fly? And why do cats always shit in the corner of a room? One thing is certain : when Copernicus took the earth away from the centre of the universe he instigated a chain of intellectual events culminating in the emotional bankruptcy of western civilization. For believe me, reader, the age for heroes is long gone. As a society we have no coherent vision of where we are going. There is no steep and dangerous path winding upwards along a precipice to test the mettle of a noble spirit. We live in an age of consensus where we agree on everything that is trivial to feed the body but nothing that heals the soul. The unified theory of existence has been utterly destroyed by the Heisenberg principle. There are no truths left ; all is relative, all is chaos. Totally confused, parents and schools can no longer teach their children where truth and justice are to be found. Without the support of coherent social values the weaker members of society fall prey to the evils of the age : navel gazing, wanking, gluttony, sloth, timidity and selfishness. You are gross, you are blind, you are spiritually deformed … but I must stop. I am getting out of hand here; I must not lose control. My immediate problem is whether to continue with the story of my flight home, the train journey and my arrival on the doorstep of my cousin in Balmain, whether to return to Jim Brown in White Cliffs who if you remember, has just finished eating a pie and is about to go into the pub, or go right back to Shipwreck Creek near Mallacoota where we left the stranger asleep in his tent. ¶ I include that last paragraph to give you an idea how lateral the creative process really is. How can I be expected to write a ‘tight’ story when my world is in shambles? I hold a mirror to the world as it is not as it should be. My characters are no more out of control than I am ; their sanity is as tenuous as mine. Jim has an identity crisis. The stranger or as I shall henceforth refer to him, Mallacoota Man, is morbid. Besides he believes he was born by spontaneous generation which, seeing I was a virgin birth, and Jim arrived by budding, means that there is not a normal birth between us. What’s more I don’t know if Jim ‘budded’ from me or from Mallacoota Man, though I suspect he tends to appropriate my experiences. Incestuous relationships between author and character are nothing new ; in this tolerant age you’ll just have to learn to accept that …….”) of 1 of thm in this piece. H iz nkuragin me 2 ‘pblsh’ th xzrpts from ‘IN TRANSIT’. I think its bkoz sh yearnz 2 type plain nglsh. (19/2/05 – I find it increasingly difficult to type in plain English. In doc-uments I type at work I consistently leave off the e from ‘the’ and have to spend time adding it on! 5

Helh&z) In Orbost I bght bunz & red th Age ovr a x2 shot latté (thr r O 24 plkanz now). Im prtklrly ntrstd in nythn 2 do wth HABIB. Hiz kase berz on my prkp8n wth th notion of KOMPLICITY in genrl but esp az it ppliez 2 trtur. R th ppl hoo voted 4 th lbralz KOMPLICIT 2 th liez az LfOrVaEnCkE klaimz (bkoz w all know verythn he reknz)? I m not sure. Neerly verythn ppl say r rptitionz (clichéz, echoez) of what their seniorz say & they reely bleev it. They r like chldrn & HOWAR-D iz their fthr figr. Th litl prik workz hiz butt off 2 prjekt th mage. It givz u n idea of how th vrage ozzie bloke rmmbrz hiz dad. Too bad! Im getn nuthr stubee & m off 2 Pearl Point → whr th trak iz good nuf 4 n rdnry kar kordn 2 th lady in th pub & ← whr MM 1ce set out → beech 2 bild a sheltr in prpr8n FOR THE END OF THE WORLD (26/2. but th pisode Im kwotin 2 introjuice u 2 MM took place rlier 2 th ee-st of Wingan Inlet : “An explanation is in order. The fact is Jim sometimes claimed, or had heard of someone who claims, to have grown up in Mallacoota. He was the son he says of none other than that self-righteous citizen wearing the ‘Vote for Joh’ badge who owned the general store where Mall-acoota Man bought his provisions. Looking at Jim here you would hardly believe that his youth was the product of an archetypal lower middle class upbringing and I don’t. He claims to have worn his father’s ‘Vote for Joh’ badge himself. He had tapped a little white ball around the Mallacoota Golf Course. He had believed in the pious drivel about how small traders and farmers were the backbone of the nation and how its moral fibre was being undermined by socialists and women’s libbers. It was Jim’s encounter with Mallacoota Man, initially from behind the counter of the store and later as their friendship matured by actual visits to his camp, that was the spark that liberated Jim from his father’s domination. Small world, isn’t it! It’s not surprising then that Jim, hazy and sensitive as he was about his past, should tell the traveller a story of another man’s past. He was getting a bit drunk too and what’s the difference anyway! ¶ And so it’s time for all of us to go back to Mallacoota Man where we left him in his camp at Shipwreck Creek, at night in a tall forest of silvertop ash (eucalyptus sieberi). Except it is summer this time and instead of being fast asleep dreaming poetry he is sitting on his plastic box drinking another stubby of Copper’s stout. Us authors can do things like that. ¶ It is a dark night again. The moon has not risen and the stars are hidden by cloud. In spite of the proximity of the ocean, from where the occasional crash of a larger wave intrudes into our man’s consciousness, here in the forest the air is warm and very humid. Mallacoota Man is staring into the coals of his fire. He is holding the stubby in one hand while with the other he makes unconscious fluttering movements to protect his ankles form hordes of tiny ferocious mosquitoes that are cruising about just above ground level. Consequently he is hunched forward in an attitude that looks cramped and awkward. Every now and then he straightens up and raises his hand to scratch a spot on his shoulder from which earlier in the evening he had detatched a tick with a pair of tweezers. ¶ He is in deep thought. He is thinking about one of the lesser known consequences of Avogardo’s theory : namely that every human being has in his body particles that had previously been incorporated in the bodies of all other human bein-gs, even past human beings. It amazed him to think that parts of his body had once been parts of the living tissue of Jesus Christ. This comes about naturally because of the paths that oxygen and carbon dioxide that we breathe in take through our body and because of the way the molecules breathed out are in a very short time again redistributed evenly through the earth’s atmosphere.¶ I myself have spent fitful nights turning this wonderful idea over in my head. It is an extraordinarily telling indicator of the interconnectedness of all living creatures. It means that Mallacoota Man and Jim Brown, and for that matter, myself, really are most intimately related in spite of our parthenogenic origins. I might as well reveal to you here that Mallacoota Man has in the past been guilty of consuming human flesh. It is from the time of this misguided practice that he dates the appearance of the suppurating sores that at times of tension, when his immune system is suppressed, break out on the inside of his mouth and around the rim of his anus. He suspects that the entire length of his alimentary canal is similarly aff-licted. The practice of cannibalism is of course not to be recommended under any circumstances and even in the distressed mental condition that he was in at the time he would not have embarked on it if he had only known what he knew now : that all other human beings were already incorporated into the fabric of his flesh. ¶ He is still sitting on the box staring gloomily into the coals. His forehead is creased in a frown as the tip of his tongue explores a 6

festering pustule on the roof of his mouth. He has had a bad day. ¶ His troubles started early in the morning when he cut his index finger deeply on the serrated edge of the lid of a can of spaghetti he had opened for breakfast. The tip of his finger which is now tightly taped has no feeling and it may be that the nerve is severed. Later he had gone for a walk to a beach a few kilometres away and got caught by a heavy shower. At the same time as he was being drenched he realized that he didn’t know if he had remembered to put the lid back on the plastic container of muesli which he had left out in the open. When he got back he found the con-tainer tipped over and the remains of the muesli strewn around it. A couple of currawongs strutted about contentedly. If the birds hadnt found it the muesli would have been ruined by the shower any-how. That was not the end of it. At tea time he had managed to bite his tongue when eating a prune so that a piece of it is sticking out awkwardly and keeps catching on any food he eats. It is still bleed-ing and is soothed only by the stout flowing over it. ¶ He hears a rustle and then a wheezing and coughing made by a possum which has the bad habit of wandering about in the branches above him. Later it will climb down the trunk of the nearest tree to eat the bread with which Mallacoota Man has been coaxing it for weeks. He is trying to get the possum to lose its fear of man by training it to come right up to the end of his foot. This is the same incontinent animal that had once peed on him from an overhanging branch. It sometimes attempts to poop on him too. He picks up his torch and directs a powerful beam into the branches. He his wary not to be the victim of the possum’s poor toilet training again. The possum, hissing and spluttering, climbs down the trunk and scavenges for the small piec-es of bread leading towards the plastic box he is sitting on. He stares at it morosely : though he is prepared to give it bread he cannot forgive it for its past misdemeanors. ¶ Later after scratching his ankles furiously, he stands up, puts the empty stubby by the fire which has almost gone out and picks up a half size spade. He walks down an obscure track till he is well away from the camp. At the edge of the clearing he stops and digs a hole. The frogs in a depression at the other end of the clearing cease their croaking. After inspecting the hole with the torch he turns around and unzips his trousers. He is going to have a crap. He squats down, trousers around his ankles, balancing with one hand and knows immediately that he has made an awful mistake. A hundred or perhaps a thousand mosquit-oes are drilling their probosces into his bum. Only those with personal experience of his predicament will understand what he is going through. The simultaneous biting of a very large number of mosquit-oes has a multiplying effect so that it feels as if a sharp knife is being pushed into each buttock. A dia-rrhoeal condition ensures that there is nothing he can do about it. In the depths of his frustration he lifts a hand to his forehead and lets out a tortured scream into the treetops while at the same time evacuating his large intestine with an emphatic slurp. He hurries back without bothering to bury the evidence, grabs a stubby from the car, and sits down on the plastic box. ¶ The possum is still there examining its navel or its anus, its back turned disrespectfully towards Mallacoota Man. As he is ab-out to pull the ring-top on the stubby he stiffens and sniffs at the night air. He picks the torch up, points it at the possum and stands up. Then he shines it at the box : it is smeared with excreta. The possum has shat on the lid. The possum is about to meet its maker. But wait! It may yet be saved. There is something familiar about that smell and there is just too much turd on the box. Slowly Malla-coota Man turns around, arches his back, and shines his torch on the back of his trousers. They are smeared all the way down to the heels of his mocassins. He has shat on them himself. For the time being the life of the possum is saved. ¶ Mallacoota Man stands still for an entire minute. His should-ers are slumped, his spirit appears to be broken. Suddenly, in a paroxysm of fury he rushes at the possum and with an almighty kick sends it catapulting into the air. The screaming possum hits a trunk, falls to the ground, and scrambles up the tree again. Mallacoota Man hurls a stubby after it. Weeks of patient training have come to nought. ¶ As if exorcised of some malignant spirit, he takes a deep breath. He feels better now. He heads into the forest on the way to a cove from which he can hear the sound of breaking waves. At the beach he puts his torch on a rock which he knows he will be able to find in the dark and wades into the ocean. He dives into a wave and loses his mocassins. He lies in the shallows as wave after wave washes him clean. He walks back to his camp in bare feet. At the camp he throws the wet clothes over a bush, dries himself and crawls into his tent. He goes to sleep commiserating the power 7

that trivialities exert over men’s lives. But ¶ as the shell of his life falls away / breached by the steady rhythm / of the pounding sea / he surrenders to the night // the sea grows louder / till its roaring mingles with his dreams / and on the waves of sleep / he is carried to a shoreline // where he knows / that it has always been so / that on one such night / he will be taken / back to sea ¶ Meanwhile time spins its fragile web upon the surface of the turn-ing earth whose glowing core as ever dreams its dream of molten stone. ¶ The above incident is pl-ausible yet life itself never is. The implausible in our lives gives it its poignancy. The most extraor-dinary thing is that we should exist at all. Can you believe that a hundred or so simple elements like carbon, oxygen, phosphorous, hydrogen could organize themselves, even over billions of years, into living, thinking beings. Yet against all probability they did. Life does not follow the rules of probability. It’s a problem for me as a writer. If I want to be believed I have to present you with plausibilities. If I describe it as it really happened you’re not going to believe me. All I can do is try. ¶ He stood up. He picked up the torch and a small spade and went a short distance into the bush past the camp site. He began to dig. He dug with ease as the soil had recently been turned over. Soon he reached the body : it was the body of his father. ¶ in memory of / a substantial citizen / called to a higher life // he was a man / hole at one end for food / the other end for waste / a busy businessman / he’s in the largest tomb / two tons of marble / and not a plastic flower / his rotten body / lies deep down / and broods of rest // here they are / a company of friends ¶ No, no, I lost the thread then. That was another time, in another place, in winter I think. ¶ What he really did was dig a hole and have a crap. Back at the camp he threw some kindling on the fire which had almost gone out. He went to the car and got a bottle of apricot sherry. It was for the possum. He had been training it for weeks to be a drunk. It had almost finished eating the trail of bread from the base of the tree to the saucer into which he poured the sherry. Though it didn’t take much to get the possum drunk he had been increasing the amount each night. It drank the sherry greedily as usual, stood up on its hind legs as if begging, and fell flat on its back. Mallacoota Man was in a sour mood ; he was not amused. He went to the van and got out his rifle. It already had a bullet in the breech. He cut a piece of cheese, stuck it on the sight of the rifle and sat down on the box. In one hand he held a stubby and in the oth-er the rifle with the muzzle under the nose of the possum. The possum fiddled with the cheese as it lay on its side. He put the muzzle to its eye and shot it. He intended to skin it and cook it in the cast iron baking dish which he had in the van. Why should the Vietnamese be the only ones to taste pos-sum? ¶ Not true! The animal liberationists among you can relax. Go back to eating your vegies. What he really did was finish his drink and stagger off to his tent. The day had been too long, life was too hard, he couldn’t be bothered shooting the possum. ¶ Inside the tent he undressed so that he was stark naked and felt the contours of the sleeping bag. The life size vinyl doll he had bought at an army disposal store was fully inflated. With some difficulty he wriggled down into the bag beside her. ¶ may i feel said he / (i’ll squeal said she / just once said he) / it’s fun said she // (may i touch said he / how much said she / a lot said he) / why not said she // (let’s go said he / not too far said she / what’s too far said he / where you are said she) // may i stay said he / (which way said she / li-ke this said he / if you kiss said she // may i move said he / is it love said she) / if you’re willing said he / (but you’re killing said she / but its life said he / but your wife said she / now said he) / ow said she // (tiptop said he / don’t stop said she / oh no said he) / go slow said she // (ccco-me? said he / ummm said she) / you’re divine! said he /(you are Mine said she)/ (e.e.cummings) ¶ How nice it would be if life’s stories had happy endings. Unfortunately we cannot shape life in the way that authors can control their yarns : it is too unruly for that. …….”) …. How sprized I woz 2 find th road 4md & gravld all th way 2 th •. N@rly thr r ppl here & sum1 iz kampt …. On th way → Orbost I woz thinkn (rl8d 2 ystrdeez kommnts) th@ knshoosnss (rl8d 2 konshens whn w r torkn O how w r joi-nd wth chuthr) iz just a fancy word uzed x phlosphrz 2 meen awake. It kumz from th dskum4t korzd x th dffrnce btween th sensz (24/2. problee sepr8 stmlus/rspns rgnzmz b4 they wer joind in th prmordial c). Hghtnd knshoosnss (warenss) (favrit of GURUS) iz nuthr way of sayn bein mor wake. Dreemz r mmreez, mainly of what wv cn. Kmpared 2 th awakend 1z neerly very1 iz sleepn. Then I rlized Iv xplaind it all b4 in ‘15/4/02 – 26/4/02’ pp 13, 14…. In ordr 2 muddy th watrz so az 2 dsguize their ntruzion 8

az midl men (c ‘March 11’ p9) whn they dskuss knshoosnss th flosphrz & shrinks ntrojuice notions of dentity & of th ‘I’ (go, supr~go, id) …. 8.00. Ftr t I had a dip in watr whch woz just rght, mild but kool nuf 2 rfrsh on what haz turnd out 2 b a warmsh, stil evnn. → 4 a kupl of kz & found sum terrfk rope but koodnt get th nd off th pole it woz @chd 2. Itz reel kwalty stuf so I ← van 2 get me nife. Therz O 90 metrz of it. Brort it ← 2 take home. Kumn ← I had nuthr dip. Th c woz lmost glasee. Its so stil. & thr r no mozzeez. Kan u beet th@! Time 4 a koffee. Tuesday 15/2/05. A change kame thrgh vrnght wth a breef showr. Its grey. I m xlntly sheltrd but nly 50 yardz furthr lookn out 2 c from th edge of th • thr iz a stif wind & th c iz choppy. (its spitn so Im goin nside). 2day I had n10d → Dock Inlet (22/2. & I rpeet th@ tho kademik lit klaimz it haz no outlt → c I hav found whr thr iz 1) th proxm8 setn 4 th hermitz hideout (“Mallacoota Man stood up. The possum, bleary eyed, was sitting on its haunches just in front of him. He unzipped his trousers. He was about to do something unspeakable, something he had been planning to do for a two weeks. ¶ Before you damn him out of hand, dear reader, consider these mitigating circumstances. He is the product of a pluralist society in which any traditional value you care to nominate is being actively ridiculed by at least one organized lobby group funded by the taxpayers. The only kinds of behaviour on which there is general even if unspoken consensus and which in his case have been reinforced by countless hours of TV viewing are the pursuit of money, success and self-gratification. It is late at night in the bush, he knows that there are no witnesses to what he is about to do, and he is not subject to normal social constraints. His inhibitions have been dulled by alcohol. He is from a working class district and has not had the benefit of a private school education. He has had a lousy day and a sliver of his tongue is hanging loose and catching painfully against his teeth. Consider further that he has been the victim of atrociously humiliating behaviour by this same possum in the recent past. ¶ Have I still failed to stir a sympathetic chord in a corner of your christian heart? ¶ As I say, he unzipped his trousers, took a step forward so that he was standing with his legs apart and pissed, pissed copiously, on the possum. It looked up with an idiotic expression and copped the stream directly on its face. It did not move from where it was crouched between his legs : maybe it thought it was being showered with apricot sherry or maybe, as was more likely, it was a retard. ¶ He took a deep breath and with the ensuing sigh all the troubles of that day left him. He felt exhilarated. He was paying the possum back in the most appropriate manner. Let the punishment fit the crime. He felt that what he was doing expressed the essence of the Australian character, he was a patriot even if he did come from a migrant family. He couldn’t help laughing : the possum looked so stupid. ¶ It is impossible to describe adequately the horror of what happened next. A number of events took place simultaneously but I have to list them as if there was an order to them. At the same time as Mallacoota Man burst out laughing he trod hard on the possum’s tail. The possum emitted a primal scream and came to life like an uncoiling spring. Instinctively it sprinted up his leg with great thrusts of its powerful hind talons. In the same instant as it reached his head, his hands which in a reflex action were being thrown up to protect his face, reached the possum. Mid-note, his laugh tur-ned into a sound somewhere between a stuck pig and a roar as in the one action he threw the poss-um away from his face into the night. You understand that none of these events had a separate exist-ence : the reality was a blur of arms and fur, a piercing scream or screams in the night, profound sil-ence. ¶ He ran the tips of his fingers upwards from his knees. He was covered in blood. He couldn’t see because blood was running from his head down his face. He could tell from the pain in his leg and chest that they were deeply gashed. Blood was dripping from his chin onto the backs of his han-ds as he held them over his chest. He was afraid he might fall into the fire. He couldn’t move until he wiped the blood from his eyes. It was then that he discovered that his eyes were gone, gouged out. Like Oedipus. ¶ The sheer horror of that discovery was such that he lost all feeling. An unreal calm descended over him and he observed himself with calculating lucidity from a vantage point high ab-ove. He could see himself, illuminated by an eerie glow, far below standing between the fireplace and the box. He would not be able to drive the car. He would have to walk to the road. But it would be al-most impossible ; his camp was hidden at the end of a logging track. First he must find the box with-out falling into the coals. He watched himself bend down and feel the ground around him till he touch-ed the box. Then he saw himself take a careful step, extend the other hand to the box 9

and sit down. It occurred to him that he might be dead. Then the pain returned. ¶ He would never know if the out-of-body experience had lasted seconds or hours. It had taken place outside time. What he was certain of was that it was while he was in that state that his eyes were healed for as he sat on the box groan-ing he moved one of his eyelids. Making sure that his eyes were closed he gently wiped the thicken-ing blood from the lids. He opened his eyes : he could see. He picked up the torch and examined his leg and chest. He felt his head. These wounds had also healed but he was still a mess and the pain was so intense that he didn’t feel the scores of mosquitoes he could see standing shoulder to shoul-der biting his ankles. He would have to go down to the beach again. His experience in diving for aba-lone bare-handed had taught him that sea water was a good anaesthetic. He was in the habit of grab-bing an abalone and with a quick jerk picking it off the rock before it had a chance to attach itself pro-perly. His hands and the tips of his fingers would often become badly cut by sharp rocks and shells but the pain would not come till an hour or so after he left the water and by then they would already be healing. This time the sea would clean his clothes and rid him of the mosquitoes too. ¶ He waded out and dived into the sea. The water washed over him as cool as crystal and he was instantly heal-ed. He could hear the waves breaking ahead but could not see them as the cloud cover made the night very dark. A swell lifted him up and when it let him down again he was unable touch bottom. The water was turbulent and foamy ; it snarled all about him. He knew the danger : it was a choppy sea, the waves were breaking erratically from any direction, a breeze was springing up. The problem was that on a night as dark as this the uneven water would not tell him in which direction the shore lay. On a really dark night even a regular sea can be confusing. It can be difficult to judge whether you are swimming with the wave in the direction of the shore or at an angle almost parallel to the waves. So when he was in calmer waters again and could hear that the churning was further from him he peered around trying to work out if he was between the waves and the shoreline or on the other side of them. The noise was of no help because the breeze, which was becoming gusty, made it sound as if it was coming from every direction at once. The surface of the water was calmer now and that, as well as the fact that he hadn’t touched bottom, inclined him to believe that he was on the seaward side of the waves. But which direction were they in? You can probably tell that Mallacoota Man was not inexperienced in this kind of situation. He had swum often at night before. He was att-racted to it by the element of danger, the thrill. He believed that it sharpened his senses and brought clarity to his thinking. He was not about to panic now. If the shoreline had consisted of low dune he knew that he would have no hope of seeing it. However in the present case the cove was backed by a line of cliffs and they in turn by low hills which made him confident that even tonight the coast would be indicated by a greater density in the darkness. But he hadn’t counted on the rain.The rain began coming down warn and steady and getting heavier. And now he couldn’t see anything at all. The sou-nd of waves retreated into the distance. ¶ in the womb of the wave / dead men float / waiting / to be born into sand ¶ Perhaps we should leave him there. At his best he is a dubious character and this could be my cue to write him out of the story. Or should we save him? If so, how? ¶ a lighthouse sends / a beam of light / to guide / the voyager across the sea // but who will take him / past the ports / past the headlands and the reefs // to the castles in the depths / where the drowning sailors sing ¶ What I should do is examine his personality a little, reveal a bit of his past, and let you decide for yourself if he is worth saving. ¶ You could say that swimming at night is foolhardy. You can criticize Mallacoota Man for becoming addicted to the adrenalin and heightened state of awareness that the practice brings to him. But in his favour you have to admit that he is not hurting anyone and he deserves some credit for his physical courage. ………¶ my gentle lord / protector of children // I am not a child / I am a sailor // in the eye of the storm // and in this stillness / I listen ¶ ……….I have allowed myself though, to stray from the topic : Mallacoota Man, nocturnal swimmer and possum hater. He has other faults too. He has been preoccupied for most of his life with faeces, or more plainly, bogs. His own that is. It’s not easy for me to write about ; it’s not a glam-orous topic. As I said before I’d like my mother to be able to read this eventually and I have already been heavily criticized by my defacto (the same one who calls me a shithead) for being too scatolo-gical. Though few will admit it there is an 10

almost universal interest in the subject. Psychologists have found that most of us are not capable of flushing it away without at least one good look at what we have achieved. The interest may stem from our early potty training when parents encouraged us to take enormous delight in the size of our craps. There is more to it than empty pride though. In Africa it is commonly said that you can tell how healthy a community is by the size and firmness of the craps you see by the roadside. ‘Big craps, little clinics’ is the saying in rural areas. Did you know that the practice over there is to wipe your behind with a round pebble? Its not easy I can tell you, I’ve tried. It’s not healthy either. How can you be sure the pebble you’re using hasn’t been used before? That’s why AIDS is spreading through Africa like wildfire. No one believes me when I tell them ; but you think about it. Closer to home, the science of naturopathy has shown that there is no better cure for arthritis than to be immersed up to your neck in raw sewage. Why do you think Ezekiel spent ten years lying in cow dung? The fastest growing medical specialty is proctology. Mallacoota Man himself had toyed with the idea of becoming a proctologist. ¶ The main influence that led him to the preoccupation with matters fundamental was his sickly and accident prone childhood. It meant that he often had to go to hospital. No matter for what reason he was taken there, whether it was a cut finger or an earache or anything else at all, he noticed that the doctors always started off by examining his behind. They wou-ld clasp his buttocks in each hand, spread them apart and carefully examine his orifice. Their interest greatly reinforced his already healthy respect for that part of the body caused by the exaggerated ex-citement his parents showed every time he used a potty to do a crap. He can still remember how on those occasions they would jump up and down clapping like lunatics. In his entire childhood he never saw them so happy again. As for the doctors, you and I know that what they were doing was perfor-ming the anal dilation test to see if he was the victim of child abuse. Should his sphincter have dilated even once he would straight away have been put in an orphanage. One of these doctors later went to work in a hospital in England where she put half the kids of an entire town in orphanages. Hardly sur-prising then that Mallacoota Man retained a lifelong iterest in the anus and its products. ¶ It was an interest that manifested itself in many ways but found its greatest expression in the tremendous satis-faction he got in leaving his calling card on every monument he came across. By monuments I mean roadside cairns commemorating explorer’s journeys, RSL monuments, dedication plaques and things like that. Next time you drive along the Hume Highway between Melbourne and Sydney stop and have a closer look at a few Hume and Hovell cairns. If you see a great turd on the marble base, it may have been left there by Mallacoota Man. If it’s just a sloppy mess it means he’d been drinking too much stout. His proudest achievements consisted of leaving his extrusions on an entire set of cairns. He collected sets in this way like you or I might collect stamps. He had crapped on every Major Mit-chell monument in Vic. and New South. He spend months scouring outback Queensland till he was sure not a single Leichart memorial had escaped his omnipotent bowel. Sometimes he ate nothing but oats for weeks because there were so many monuments to cover. Once a monument took his fancy nothing could stop him putting his mark there. He had to do the Captain Cook monument at Pt. Hicks at night so that he wasn’t spotted from the lighthouse. Have a look between the legs of the stat-ue of the unknown soldier in frong of the State Library in Melbourne. He waited till 4 am to do that. By the way, he worked in that library as an attendant for three years. ¶ perhaps it is right that / the custodians of this library / which is perfectly round / should be inefficient // when it is transferred / into the new building / instead of the perfection of circles / there will be glass rectangles // and the custodians / of that new library will / be models of efficiency // and / our most regular customers / from the derelicts home / who come here because there / is a touch of eternity / in this room // will have nowhere to go ¶ one reaon why / the derelicts will not go / into the new library is / because it will be carpeted // they are used to hard / and resonant floors / to them their footfalls / have a hollow ring // they have grown used to that ¶ another reason / why they like / to come to this library / is because it is old // they have no / community of worship / in this world // but long long ago / somewhere in the past / it was different // and so if we do provide / them with a service / it is only / that we rescue / the past / from the present ¶ in the mirror / on the dais at the centre / of the perfect circle / of this room / you can see 11

// that the old man at the table / is no younger than the oldest book / the boy on an excursion / feels the dust along the shelves // all pasts and / all futures are / only reflections / of the present ¶ have you noticed how frail / the old men are / their hands are clumsy like the / hands of children / the books that they read / are the books that children read // books about war / kings / and other lands ¶ and perhaps / some of these old men / have no future / just as some have had / no past // in this circular tower, / a dead architects / imitation of a mystery that he / could only faintly glimpse, / these men guard / the eternal present // all others / must humbly wait / outside ¶ The librarians there still talk about the time an awful crap was found under the dome next to the dais in the main reading room. No one could believe that somebody could perpetrate such an abomination without being spotted. Mallacoota Man did that. He was wearing an army greatcoat and a wig and nothing else when he did it. ¶ I can imagine what you’re saying right now. ¶ “Drown him, drown him!” I can hear you calling. ¶ “Save him!” cry the proctologists. ¶ Let’s not be hasty. Let’s get a bit more information before we finally decide. ¶ He has done worse than decorate the monuments of Australia. In fact, though the Returned Service Men’s League would disagree, he felt he was paying a kind of reverse tribute to the culture of the nation. His hobby means that he knows more about the myths that have shaped the Australian psyche than you or I ; never mind that his parents were migrants. He could tell you the exact words on the inscription under the statue of the ‘Dog on the Tuckerbox’ at Gundagai. I bet you couldn’t do that. Should you go down there to check up be careful not to step on the giant extrusion next to the tuckerbox just behind the dog. There is unfortunately a darker side to his preoccupation with poop. He went through a period in his life of full blown caprophagia. He was mad at the time of course, probably driven insane by the practice of cannibalism. He had become obsessed by the idea of self~sufficiency. Circularities and closed systems had always fascinated him. That was the appeal of cannibalism too. He believed that if human beings ate each other, the young ate the old, then forests would not have to be razed to make pastures for cattle. We could live in harmony with our surroundings because the human race would constitute a closed system. The idea of eating human flesh was not repugnant to him as he had been brought up a catholic and been to communion. He thought of human sacrifice as the ultimate expression of the religious sensibility. There is a fatal flaw in this scheme which because he was already insane he didn’t spot for quite awhile. The flaw is that the system is not a self~sustaining one. When the old people get eaten up the young ones have to starve. It was that realization that made him abandon the eating of human flesh. He is now a lapsed catholic. However he soon realized, and as I say he was mad by then, that he could achieve ultimate independence by eating his own faeces like St John the Baptist in the desert. The caprophagia came after that. ¶ Do any of you, other than the proctologists, still want to save him? ¶ I’ll tell you something else. Mallacoota Man was a fraud. He purposely encouraged the good citizens of Mallacoota to believe that he was camped hidden in the bush permanently so as to develop a special aura around himself. He is indeed the origin of the myth of the wild man of Mallacoota that they still talk about in the pubs of East Gippsland. But he actually lived in a flat in Melbourne and went down to his campsite only now and then. He fooled everyone by sneaking into his secret camp the back way along an abandoned logging track from the Princes Highway. His dishevelled appearance was artfully calculated. The gullible hamburghers of Mallacoota really believed when he came in to get his supplies at the general store that he hadnt left the bush since the last time he had come in. Jim Brown believed it too! Such are the myths that sustain a nation. ¶ Do even the proctologists among you want to save him? ¶ I will save him whatever you say. I am the author ; I will decide. I never had the slightest intention of taking your advice anyway. It was just a gimmick to get you involved in a proactive way. I will save him because in spite of his faults I detect a spark of nobility in him. He may be cranky, he may be repugnant, he may be a lapsed catholic but I admire his obstinate independence, his capacity to stand aside from the crowd a little. When all you proctologists, lesbians, transvestites, child molesters, prostitutes, psychiatrists and drug addicts go dancing into hell together he will still be sitting on his plastic box among the bangalay (eucalyptus botryoides) and the geebung (persoonia levis) staring gloomily into the coals. ¶ We left him treading water on a pitch black and rainy night at the mercy of the sea. With no cues to the direction of the shore he was going to have to 12

rely solely on the powers of the right side of the brain. That’s the side which is the seat of instinct and is in touch with the common subconscious. If properly harnessed it can help us tap into cosmic energy. But he was at a disadvantage as his crystal wand was back in the car. Only the high priests can tap into cosmic energy without a wand and to become one he would have to have done a full week of training at a cost of $2,000, whereas the wand was only $300. It would have been worth it though. He considered the options : he would have to transcend his limits. Fire~walking could be dismissed out of hand. That had been a total waste of money. It’s only application was in a bushfire emergency and how often do you get caught in a bushfire. Astral travel was a possibility but you had to be asleep or in a trance and he was afraid of drowning. Reincarnation was a last resort as was rebirthing. The ‘I can’ course he had done ensured that his confidence remained high. His potential had been barely tapped : if only he could get into his higher self. The energy transfer lessons might be of use. He spread his arms out in the classic druid position, trod water and tried to relax. Nothing happened. He lifted his head and sniffed the air. Perhaps he would be able to smell the direction of the land. He couldn’t. The aromatherapy sessions had been a waste of time too. Nor was the ‘Past Lives’ therapy of much help. He tried lateral thinking but was getting too tired and too confused. Still he didn’t give up. Self~empowerment had taught him never to give up. Hadnt he already been saved once that day when his eyes were healed during the out-of-body experience. There was one thing he hadnt tried, and now that he remembered it, it was peculiarly appropriate : dolphin meditation. It was years since he had done it ; one of the very first courses he did at Adult Education. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it now. He turned over so that he was floating on his back. He pursed his lips. With the rain falling on his face he made little twittering and whistling noises. It wasn’t easy. But it worked. A flash of lightning lit up the sky followed by a peal of thunder. Then there was another flash and another. With each flash the cove lit up like an amphitheatre. He was two hundred yards from land. He felt strong. He headed for it with powerful strokes like a sprinter. He got there before the thunderstorm. As he hurried up the track towards his camp he realized the pain in his legs and chest was gone. He reached camp to a crescendo of lightning and thunder. He examined himself more carefully. His skin was smooth, the wounds were gone without a trace. Only the rips in his trousers and shirt remained as evidence of his ordeal. As he crawled into his tent it was shaken by a more powerful gust of wind and the rain bucketed down. He slept deep, like he had never slept before. ¶ You have to admit that in the West we sadly neglect the development of the right side of the brain. With the exception of the dolphin meditation which he had done with Adult Education all the other training Mallacoota Man had done was done privately at considerable expense. Of course it was worth it. In the East, especially in India, they understand that without spiritual training a man is incomplete. The diminishing role of religion means that there is no major institution in our society that does it here. We are the poorer for it. Mathematics, logic and science all reside in the left side of the brain and it is in this area that our educational institutions excell. Our infatuation with numbers and logic stems from the fact that they are such powerful instruments in conquering the material world. Unfortunately in the emotional realm, in the arts, in human relations and in most of our day to day activities the instruments of science are useless. Compared to the sophisticated Easterner we are infantile and undeveloped. If we are to live life to the full we must employ all our faculties. If you want excitement and thrills go swim in a rough sea at night. Or do a cross country hike on a stormy night through the bush by yourself. That’s when you see real visions and meet the spirits that have always inhabited this earth. Modern man has closed himself off from most of the activity that goes on in the world about him. He has restricted himself to cities and houses and the small parts of the globe he can illuminate with electricity. The world most people live in is sanitized and prepackaged by the television screen. I suppose what I despise most about druggies is that they are its final product. Th ey practice their sad deceptions for the sake of powders and coloured pills. The smallness of their spirit can be measured by the callibrations on a syringe. They think that visions and ecstasies can be dispensed in controlled doses while they sit like vegetables in their bedrooms. ¶ Mallacoota Man knows better. He is sitting on his plastic box staring morbidly into the fire. The possum is nearby. It is sniffing its arse. Mallacoota Man stands up. He un-zips his trousers. He is going to do something 13

unspeakable … ¶ I cant stand it anymore. Surely I didn’t save him just for this? Is he trapped in a time warp or is he travelling transversely through a series of parallel universes? Is it that life goes in circles? Are we doomed to repeat our mistakes for-ever? (26/2. W8 4 th nxt xitin pisode shood thr b 1)) & on whch he woz abl 2 rely 4 frsh watr az he w8d 4 TH ND OF TH O (28/2. I dskuvrd DIC&ArSeTaRO iz xpktn (2/3. rvewn a nvntree of me frendz I m srprized x how meny (mayb a mjorty) sens our cvliz8n iz drawin 2 a knkluzion. Praps th nly dffrnce iz th@ I rtkul8 it mor loudly. R w a biast sampl? If u rely on reedn th pprz & w@chn tely u wood think ppl wer bubln ovr wth nrgetk nthziazm, jumpn hgh wth joy a la toyota. In tryin 2 dcide whch vew iz mor widezpred keep in mind th@ th knsumer knmee of telvzion dpendz on ppl rushn O while sad ppl r poor spendrz & r nklined 2 sit @ home mopin or reedn books.) sumthn of th sort; on th way 2 lunch wth him I sor a nmbr pl8 : BADAZZ; Dan rang from Sydney 2 say hel b home on thrzdy az he haz a job here). But its not th day 4 dreemee stroln. I hav brort 2 books on th trip both ritn in ltho whch iz a novlty 4 me. I m srprized @ how eezlee Im reedn th 1 Iv startd. Last week whn I got up in th midl of th nght 2 turn off th smoke larm beepr & H askt me what I woz getn up 4 I nswrd her in ltho & sh snapt bak “speek nglsh”. (20/2/05. Justifiably – we have been married for 40 years and we have always spoken English to each other – it’s a bit late to start doing oth-erwise now. Also , had the house been on fire, I wouldn’t have understood the notification.. Helh&z) Th book I hvnt startd reedn iz ‘Laiškai Mylimosioms’ (‘Letters to Loved Ones’) x Juozas Lukša-Daumantas pblsht in Chicago 1993 © American Foundation For Lithuanian Research, Inc. & Nijolė Braženas-Paronetto. Juozas Lukša-Daumantas (10/8/21 ~ 4/9/51) playd an mportnt role in rgnizin th partzn (PARTIZANU) rzistance 2 th 1st soviet kkup8n in 40/41 & kntnued in a senior role in th movmnt durin th long (in2 th 50s) yeerz of th rzistance ftr th 2nd war whn th last of thm wer fnally huntd down x NKVD units spcially traind 4 th task. He woz a very h&sm man judgn from th foto on th frunt kuvr of him pen in h& ritin hiz book ‘Partizanai už Geležinės Uždangos’ (‘Partizans Be-hind the Iron Curtain’). He rote th book while in Paris ftr †n th iron kurtin → west in 1948. While he woz in Paris (keepn hiz dntity sekrt x knstntly changin hiz +rss) he met Nijolė Bražėnaitė (l8r Bražen-as-Paronetto of New York) hoo fell ill & spent most of th time they knew chuthr in a sn@orium. Th klektion of letrz titld ‘Laiškai Mylimosioms’ r th 1z he rote ovr th yeerz 48-50 → her in th sn@orium. 2wrdz th nd of th period they mareed & in hiz letrz he of10 rferz 2 lthol& az hiz 1st wife & 2 her az hiz 2nd. Durin this time he & sevrl uthrz wer traind x th US sekrt srvice & prashootd bak bhind th iron kur-tin → lthol&. In th same yeer he woz btrayd & kild durin th final push x th NKVD whch broke th bak of th movmnt in 50/51. Th rcipient of th letrz, Nijolė, iz th twin sstr of Vida hoo died (c ‘August 18’ p11) th yeer b4 last in Melbourne hoom I rmmbr wth wrmth & hooz home I uzed 2 vizt az a chld az sh woz a klose frnd of my mum. Vida iz th mthr of VAIaTnIdErKiUuNsAS hoo sumtimez (28/2. not ystrdy) xs me glasz of red (22/2. did gain on 20/2 but it woz a vry small glas of) wine @ ltho haus in Errol st Nth Melb. Andrius iz kurntly th chairprsn (PIRMININKAS) of th mbrella rgniz8n (VALDYBA) suprvizn th small but ktiv ltho kmmnty of Melbourne. Th uthr book titld ‘ir dar valandėlė….’ (‘a little while longer ….’) iz lso a klektion of letrz mostly from lthol&, germny, sberia ritn x Konstancija Bražėnienė (a few in 1947 skrtly passt 2 Nijolė in germny, sum in 56 from Chužyr in sberia, & th bulk ← lthol& → New York & Melbourne from 55-56 whn wth th help of US guvmnt ntrvntion sh woz llowd → merika) & a much smallr no x her sun Mindaugas (from basez he woz st8nd @ in eest germny) in 1944. Mindaugas nd-ured th kndtionz of a soviet priznr of war jail 4 mmbrz of th germn rmy in Gardinas whr he woz waitn → sberia. He woz rleest az a rzult of th ntrvntion of a senior NKVD ffcer but x then hiz health woz bro-kn & he died in Kaunas aged 22. Th klktion woz pblshd last year (I just put me h& 2 th bak of me nek & felt what I mmdi8ly knew 2 b a TICK. Must hav got it whn I went 4 a krap & it puld out eezee koz it hadnt bn @chd 4 long.) & iz ddk8d 2 th mmry of Konstancija & Mindaugas. ISBN iz 9955-545-18-6 © Nijolė Bažėnaitė-Paronetto 2004. VAIaTnIdErKiUuNsAS had 25 kopeez of th book 4 dstrbution 1 of whch he gave 2 me mum. Konstancija iz hiz gr&mthr (died in New York wthout Andrius havn met her). He woz keen 4 me 2 reed it so I got my mum 2 send me her kopee & sh lso sent me th uthr (‘La-iškai Mylimosioms’). Im 1/3rd of th way → ‘ir dar valandėlė….’ & findn it prtklrly ntrstn. I m reedn it wth a sens of ntmacy th@ kums from knowin th famly & reedn O th kindz of evnts whch 4md me & whch r 14

rsponsbl 4 my prtklar way of vewn histree. Im goin ↓ 2 c how itz on th beech …. It woz drzzln. Im bak @ Bemm River in th litl park & Iv eetn a bun. Its 1.10. Th park iz kalld Luderick Point Memorial Park. Th pelknz r stil here & I kan c nuthr 20 or so on a jetee a few 00 yardz way. Thr iz a mmrial th size of a BBQ fireplace wth a small flag pole nxt 2 it. On a kopr plark it sez : “In honour of the brave men and women of the district who served their country and who paid the sup-reme sacrifice. / WWI 1914-18 / WW2 1939-45 / Malaya 1948-60 / Korea 1950-53 / Borneo 1952-66 / Vietnam 1962-73 / Kuwait 1991 / Lest We Forget”. Itz rai-nn a bit & Im movn on ….@ Nungurner jetee (c ‘16/2/04 – 27/2/04’ p7). Rang home but H had left erly 4 her talian (22/2. w r goin nxt yeer (27/2. → ROMA) lesn az sh woz meetn K8 1st. Ben nswrd th fone. He sez Dan will b bak on th week~nd (22/2. not bak yet (howz this 4 a ko~ncidnce : I had nly red 2 linez furthr & th fone rang : it woz Dan sayn hel b bak 10/3. Hez livn in Bondi & bn on th CATWALK 4 David Jones)). 2day I drove from Bemm River → Lakes Entrance thrgh stedy drzzl. 8 a piece of whitin & bort th Age @ The Lakes. Red th ppr @ th Metung hotl vrlookn th watr. Th drzzl haz stopt but its gr-ey, & stil. Rturnn 2 th book. Bsidez th letrz it nkludez (belbirdz (Manorina melanophrys) r chimin) se-vrl trbutes 2 their riter Konstancija. 1 of thm d8d 1992 iz x Dina Steinberg of Savyon, zrael but itz ritn in ltho so I wont nklude it. Here iz th 1 x Alexander Gringauz (keen fotogrfr & travlr now rtired) hoo bk-ame a farmcy & chmstry prof in New York : “THE RESCUE ¶ On a dreary, dark, cold morning in October, 1943 a bundled up 9-year old boy stood inside the main gate of the Kovno (Kaunas) Ghetto. He was tucked into a phalanx of men, maybe eight abreast, and what seemed twenty or more men long. It was one of the many brigades which leave the Ghetto every morning under heavy guard to do labor on road and airport construction, and then return in the evening. After what seemed to the boy an interminably long march through the city, the man on his right took the boy’s hand, pulled him from the brigade on to the sidewalk and quickly entered a doorway to a house. “Wait here inside” he said, “someone will come soon to get you.” The man left quickly to rejoin the brigade. ¶ The door had a glass window through which the boy was able to observe the comings and goings on the street. The bri-gade soon vanished. Pedestrians were walking on both sides of the street. He could also see horses pulling wagons. The scene was interspersed with motor vehicles, most trucks and occasional cars. Many of the vehicles had Nazi in-signia on their doors and hoods. ¶ The boy waited constantly peering out through the glass portion of the door. Shortly he noticed a solitary “German” soldier carrying a rifle on his shoulder beginning to cross the street diagon-ally towards the door. The boy was suddenly gripped with fear. He wanted to run but the second door behind him leading into the house was locked. The soldier quickly entered the small alcove, looked down at him and asked : “Are you Alexander?” They boy nodded. “Come with me”. He took the boy by the hand and they briskly crossed the street. They didn’t speak again for the longest time. As the boy’s fear subsided he suddenly blurted out “Where are you taking me?” “To my mother’s house”, the soldier said curtly. Nothing further was said until they reached their destination.¶ They entered the house; an elderly woman came out to greet them. She smiled stretching her hands out to the boy. “This is my mother”, the soldier said. The boy felt safe. ¶ The boy was Alexander Gringauz / The soldier – Mindaugas Bražėnas”. Itz worth notin th@ Mindaugas B woz 18 (18-35 yeer old men → We-rmacht) @ th time. Im goin → jetee. Ill stay here 4 th nght. Thr iz a foto of a prvious jetee in our famly lbum takn x my fthr in th rly 50s. Then Ill reed a bit of th book (7.10) Wednesday 16/2/05. I hav s@ @ this pknk tabl ritin a ntry b4 (c ‘16/2/04 – 27/2/04’ p3). Itz a small park nxt 2 th Victoria rvr in th Cobun-gra ‫ ٱ‬O 20 milez sth of Dinner Plain & Mt Hotham a k or so off th Alpine Highway. This mornn I left @ O 9.00 folown th eestrn bank of th Tambo rvr. @ th 1st • u kan pull off → rvr bank nrth of Swan Reach I pikt h&flz of blakbreez (my h&z r staind) rmmbrn how w uzed 2 pik em wth kups @ th bak of Whiters Park (Lakes Entrance) in th rly 50s till w fild up a bukt & thn w wood eet em @ very pportunty, day in & out (wth milk like a brekee srial) so az not 2 waste ny. Az new mgrnts w wer mazed u kood get su-ch dlcious food free. → Bruthen (whr I bort 2 bunz & red th Age) → Ensay (ScMaItThHy woz home wth dghtr & a girl of 15

l@vian bakgO hoo haz spent a yeer in l@l& (c ‘11/11/02 – 20/11/02’ p11). Cathy haz ritn 4 chptrz of her dtktv novl & dmits 2 ritin poetry but woodnt show me a sampl) → Swifts Creek (I had 1td 2 ask GApReDtNeErR if he new of ny fotos of th koori stlmnt bhind Whiters Park (c ‘Danyo Reserve’ p18) but hiz shop woz shut. Howvr SbMrIuTcHe woz in hiz ffice @ th kommnity • so w had a bit of a yarn. He woz werin a flamboynt shirt. I think hez in chrge thr. Both Bruce & Cathy ndpndntly & 4 dffrnt reeznz rkmmndd I vzit RhEoDwDaIrSdH @ th Mt Markey Winery (1/3. postd 1 of th fotos → Howard 2day) in th Cassilis Historic Goldfields ‫ٱ‬.) → Cassilis (az I woz teln Howard O th fotos GApReDtNeErR → in. Neethr of thm hav cn or knew of ny fotos of the koori kamp. I told thm I had sent kopeez 2 HAbNrCiOaCnK hoom they know. Mt Markey make a lot of dffrnt prdukts (jamz, vinegrz, beerz, fruit winez) & I bort a stubee kalld ‘Lone Hand’ stout. They r opn daily 10 – 5, fone : (03) 5159 1328; email : [email protected]; web address : www.omeoregion.com.au) → Cobungra (x goin thrgh Cassilis u x~pas Omeo; I had ntndd 2 park @ me • neer th top of th range 5ks off th Hotham/Bright road long th road → Dargo but I rekn it mght b 2 kold thr 2nght ~ it iznt warm here). Itz 5.15. Here iz nuthr trbute 2 Konstancija Bražėnienė from ‘ir dar valandėlė ….’. Th riter, Sarah Capelovitch iz a Neurodevelopmental Therapist in zrael & iz lso a prfsor. Sh iz th persn most rsponsbl 4 Konstan-cija bein wardd th titl of ‘Righteous Gentile’ x th zrael guvt : “Dear Nijole, ¶ A book should be written how a 5 year old (not quite 5) little girl is saved by a Lithuanian family while her family and whole community of Jews were being massacred around. Dates I know not, and a book I have not written yet,it is difficult to reach into that hell-hole, which is memory! A few things shine bright – the loving care of your dear mother is one, the other a bit blurred by a dark cold night, fear, tears, shivers – is a man. The man wore a uniform, he had black tall boots. The man picked me up, he covered me, because when I looked back to see the bridge and the river that I crossed – I could not see it anymore … He brought me to your mother’s house and left. Sometime later, he came again, he brought my mother out of the ghetto to see me for a few minutes at dawn, before she was shipped off to Schtuthoff – a death camp for Jewish women. Your mother called him Mindaugas, I am pretty sure it was the same young man that picked me up at the foot of the ‘funiculaire’ – at the foot of the hill. I know now, that the children of the ghetto Kaunas were gathered and exterminated just after that. ¶ I am here, I have two lovely daughters, two beautiful gran-dchildren, a loving husband. ¶ The family of Konstancija Brazeniene (I apologize if I misspelled the name of that dear woman) – provided a life line of love and care amidst a world of hate and annihilation. ¶ All my love to you and yours, ¶ Sarah – or as named by your family – Katrinėle.” Itz worth mntionn here th@ Konstancija lso gave shltr 2 sevrl adults from the ghetto just prior 2 itz finl lquid8n 4 th 3 weeks till th dprture of th ger-mnz. An ntrstn sidelght iz prvided x Eva Birkmann (iš Sonenbergo, Tiūringija) hoom K.Br. lookt ftr 4 sum munths (6?) ftr th war had ndd. She had got hold of th +rss of Nijolė in New York & rote letrz (19-53-55) solcitn munee & parcelz klaimn sh new K. Brs whrOs & sh wood send thm → her. In fakt Eva Birkmann new Konstancija had bn dportd → sberia in 1949 but ddnt let on 2 her chldrn. They found out thrgh dffrnt channlz in 1956. Pparntly l8r in th book Konstancija rites O Eva but Im nly up 2 p101 & hvnt kum 2 thoz letrz yet. Im goin 2 heet up watr 4 a Country Cup Pea & Ham soop wth CROUTONS tho I kant rmmbr if Iv popt me ntacid (Somac) pil. Then I mght get 2 reed a bit mor of th book. Thurz-day 17/2/05. Cobungra → Mt Hotham (thrw out rubbsh, washt h&z & face; sum snow p@chz rmainn from th same storm whch dumpt th rain on Melb 1½ weeks go) → Bright (red th ppr ovr a mug of x2 shot latté 4 $3.70) → Myrtle4d (ptrl, chekt mssge bank) → Whitfield (via Buffalo dam & road thrgh Dandongadale & Cheshunt (smokd trout & venisn on th menu)). Drinkn a Carlton Draught @ a shady tabl on a perfkt stil, mild day. Th streem bordrn th beer gardn iz burbln. I m tryin 2 klekt me thorts on th letrz x Andriaus gr&ma az I know hel xpkt a rspons. My ntrst whn I strtd reedn woz 2 get sum nsght in2 th kind of persn hoo bhavez like this, n xpln8n 4 her ktionz. But thr r az good az 0. Part from 1 sntnce whr sh sez th s@sfktion of reern th chldrn mor than made up 4 th rsk 2 her life sh barely evn rfrz 2 thm. In th ntrdktion itz rportd sh had sed th@ sh koodnt hav livd wth hrslf if sh hadnt takn thm on but th@ hardly sez mor than ‘I did it bkoz I did it’. Andrius @rbutes her ktionz & her srvivl in sberia (a pre16

est (2/3. in 2 dayz HeraldSun (p28) thr iz n rtkl O Father SASjNuAlUiSuKsAS hoo spent 18 munths in th celz of th KGB in Vilnius (c ‘Vilnius 1’ pp4 & 9) & then 5 yeerz xiled in sberia. He haz a hstree of poltkl ktvty in th korz of ltho freedom . He iz viztn th ltho komnteez of oz. It iz worth notin preests (3/3. they playd a krooshl role in rvivin ltho lnguage & tribl dntity durin th period of tzarst rule) wer well rprzntd mung thoz hoo gave shltr 2 jwz durin th war & mung thoz hoo ddnt. What th rtkl duznt mntion iz th@ though harshly prskuted x th sovietz they r lso well rprzntd mung thos hoo wer rkruitd x th KGB) helpt her bild a home) 2 th strngth of her rlgious knvktionz & it iz true in her letrz sh frquently rfrz 2 th prtektv gaze (APIVAIZDA) of GOD. But then Hitler woz th nstrmnt of DESTNY, Stalin had HSTRY (hstork ncessty) on hiz side, & our own pundts ppeal 2 REEZN. What thez deities share iz th@ if u stare hard @ ny of thm & keep askn “but what duz it meen?” they dsspeer. It iz a krktrstk of ppl hoo knstntly uze the wordz neethr 2 nlize nor 2 ? (just got me fsh (grild c-bass) & chips wth salad & a mssge ← th ktchn 2 say normly u nly get 1 filt but I got 2 (22/2. what it meenz 2 b a riter) 4 sum reezn; Im drinkn a glas of Pizzini merlot whch woz fild → brim x th new bar grl hoo duznt rlize (22/2. now I get it!) normly they nly ½ fil th glas here) But if nsted of askn what they r u ask what job they do, what purpozez r they put 2 (ie why wer thez wordz nvntd) u wil find their komn use iz 2 justfy (lgitmize) ktion takn or O 2 b xkuted. & so GOD iz th king of th l& of good in th prptual war vs Satan th dark lord of the kngdm of eevl (if u took th word out of George Bushz vokab therd b hardlee nythn left). Sum thlgians wil klaim EVIL iz simply th bsence of GOOD (koka2z r skreechn) but dont bleev em. W knot mgine eevl wthout good any mor than w kan mgine nght wthout day. Both of thm xst in chuthr since th 4m8n of th wordz : since th spr8n of lght from dark (23/2. 1st dvzion ~ Genesis). Iv dgrsd. Her letrz ndk8 th@ th 3 pilrz whch suprt Konstancijaz O view r : 1) her rlgiostee (sh prayz a lot & sumtimez sitz thrgh sevrl knsektv srvices & sh vizts shrinez), 2) her p@riotzm (based on tribe, ltho lnguage, & homel&), & 3) her bleef in th mprtnce of duk8n (komn in th mrgent ltho thnik midl klas). I wood put it 2 Andrius th@ many =y dvout & p@riotk (th prtklar mrriage of rlgion & p@riotzm woz typkl of many lthoz (& polez, & mayb iz known in zrael, & in Bushz merika)) lthoz ddnt srvive th gulag & many rlgious jws prishd in th deth kamps. I knot think of nuthr kuntry (xpt mayb ukraina) whr th jws wer mrdrd kwikr & wth mor frcity than in lthol& dspite th kathlk p@riotzm of th ppl8n. It may evn b th@ their bleefs helpt sum of thm 2 avrt their gaze. So I m left wthout kluze & 1dr how I myslf wood hav bhaved. Wordy ppl like me kan find xusez 4 verythn & I m sadnd @ th thort I wood hav rigld out of a tight • in my konshence x rguin I had no rght 2 ndanger th livez of me kdz. It wood hav dsguizd what I sspkt iz th likelhood I woodnt hav saved th ghetto chldrn evn if I ddnt hav ny of my own 2 prtkt. I no myslf nuf 2 no I woodnt hav had th kurrij. Th germnz nvaded mmd8ly ftr th 1st rus kkup8n & th prception th@ th jwsh tribe had nthziastkly koopr8d wth th rus (esp wth their skurity orgnz) woz lmost nivrsal (22/2. so I nfr). Emaci8d prznrz (thoz hoo wrnt mrdrd x th rtreetn sovietz) wer klaimn it woz jwsh terrrg8rz hoo had trtrd thm. Goebblz prpganda mchine & th kolbr8in lokl mrdrz (22/2. jwsh sorcez say all hell broke loos) made full use (prhps they had nvntd it) of th prvlnt vew. Ndr thoz Ostancez I wood hav bn 2 frghtnd 2 take on th kdz in kase sum1 btrayd (22/2. it wood b ntrstn 2 know if in fakt they to-ok place) me & like most uthrz (Alfonsas Eidintas in ‘Jews, Lithuanians & the Holocaust’ (1/3. c ‘Viln-ius 1’ p4) givz th figrz) wood hav lookt th uthr way. Whch iz why I find th ktionz of Konstancija Bražėnienė evn mor nxplkbl (1/3. & dmirabl). I put it 2 Andrius th@ 2 @rbute hiz gr&marz ktionz 2 her bleef in GOD may b 2 dtrakt from her kraktr az sh may hav dun th same evn if sh had not bleevd in HIM. Of kors I no w knot sepr8 out thez thingz so nor kan w likewize @rbute her ktions 2 her GOD. (2nd glas of Pizzini) Im rmindd of ppl hoo win bravry wardz & whn they r ntrvewd x journoz they say it hapnd 2 kwik 4 thm 2 think O it, or th@ ny1 wood hav dun th same, or th@ they just dun it. Th GOOD SAMARITAN helpt bkoz sum1 pleedd. W r not told he dun it 2 do godz wil or 2 save hiz sole or 4 th good of humnty or 2 help nuthr mmbr of hiz tribe & it kkurz 2 me th@ though thlogianz rekn jzuz of nzarth iz ment 2 giv a humnly meennful face 2 GOD (a word jzuz uzed (25/2. wth a dffrnt meenn? meenn haz changed?)) hiz xmpl iz much mor meennful if U LEEV GOD RIGHT OUT OF IT! …. → Tolmie → Kelly Tree (a plark sez “VICTORIA POLICE / UPHOLD THE RIGHT / Sergeant Michael Kennedy No: 2009 / Constable Michael Scanlon No: 2118 / Constable Thomas Lonigan No: 2423 / Killed at Stringybark Creek on the 26th October, 1878 dur-ing the execution of their duty 17

in a gunfight with a group of men later known as the “Kelly Gang” / Respectfully remembered and never forgotten / The Vi-ctoria Police Force / Plaque unveiled by Michael and Mick Kennedy on the 26-th October, 2001”) → T@ong (c ‘3/4/04 – 12/4/04’ p11). Im here 4 th nght. Friday 18/2/05. T@-ong → Yea (red ppr) → Highl&s (Dennis iz dsplayn th 6 MISSA PASSIONIS paintnz in th studio) → Whitlc (LIDiDaEnLL woznt home) → Melbourne.

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